Why I hate You
by escptheshdw835
Summary: Revised! A practical joke taken badly leads to a sprained ankle, detention, and more than a few reasons why Dean hates Seamus. But, only Dean knows he doesn't mean it, yet he can't stop saying it. SFDT Slash
1. Two reasons why I hate you

"Now we're going to be late." Dean snapped. He received a groan of pain in reply. "Really Seamus, how can anyone trip _up_ the stairs and sprain their ankle?"

"I'm gifted," the Irish boy replied.  
"More like a moron, if you ask me."

"Well it's a good thing I didn't then," Seamus snapped, wincing as he climbed another stair, putting pressure on the injured limb. Dean just shook his head at his companion, attempting to help him up yet another staircase. "You know, there are too many stairs around this place," the blond added.

"What would you have them do, put in some lifts?" Dean snipped.

"Well, that would certainly help me out, don't you think."

"I thought you weren't asking me what I thought," the black Gryffindor answered, pausing on the next landing to catch his breath.

Another groan, but this time out of exasperation. "I hate you sometimes."

"Yeah, Seamus? Well I hate you all the time; besides this is _your_ fault."

"I can't help that Snape has no sense of humor!" Seamus actually sounded affronted.

"Yes, well, I can't imagine _how_ anyone could fail to see the humor in someone reanimating a collection of dead frogs and causing them to bounce about the classroom! And couldn't you have outrun the greasy git?" Dean inquired, attempting to haul the two of them along with their bags up the next set of stairs.

"He must be part bat," Seamus replied. "With the way he swooped in on me. And it isn't my fault you got in trouble. You chose to wait for me! Why do that if you knew you'd get in trouble?"

"Would you hurry up?" Dean asked, changing the subject.

"It's hard to _hobble_ quickly! Unless…" The sandy haired boy had a mischievous look on his face as he grinned at his best friend.

"'Unless' what?" said best friend asked warily.

"Well, you could carry me!"

"How about…no? Glad that works for you!" Dean said, voice full of false cheer as they paused once more at the next landing.

"But it hurts!" Seamus whined. "Please?" Dean turned to glare at him, only to see him looking pitiful and helpless, which was of course Seamus' goal.

"Fine!" he snapped, letting the smaller teen awkwardly clamber onto his back. "But this is why I hate you all of the time."

And so, they arrived at their Transfiguration class a mere ten minutes late instead of thirty minutes or longer. Dean was out of breath as he dumped Seamus on the ground, wiping sweat off his brow and opening the door to their class.

All hopes that they could somehow sneak in unnoticed faded as their professor turned an angry glare on them. Suffice to say, Professor McGonagall looked less than pleased. "And where exactly have you two been? "

"Uh," Dean faltered, mind a complete blank.

"Well, I had a nasty fall and sprained my ankle, and Dean here, being my best mate, decided to help me! It took us a bit longer than expected to get up all those stairs, and we're awfully sorry about being late for our favorite class with our favorite professor!" Seamus informed her. Dean was sure that if he had looked at him, Seamus' face it would have been grinning happily.

"Laying it on a bit thick, Mr. Finnagin. Detention tonight."

"Uh, we can't exactly," Dean commented, having freed his tongue from its previous stupor. She raised one brow, face managing to look even more stern.

"And why is that exactly?"

"We have detention with Professor Snape," the taller boy said sheepishly. She raised an eyebrow.  
"Very well then, tomorrow evening. Now take your seats." Both boys made their slow way to the seats in the middle of the room, painfully aware of every eye watching their movements. Seamus looked rather pleased with himself, as Dean finally collapsed in his chair.

Dean wiped the smug look of his face with one sentence. "Seamus, this is just _another_ reason why I hate you," he whispered savagely, grabbing his book, quill and parchment out of his bag, and missing the hurt look the other shot him.


	2. Frogs, Frogs, Frogs

Woooo, I have not only updated two chapters in about 20 minutes, but I have also rewritten everything already. This is very exciting for me! I have to put the finishing touches on the last two chapters and nothing dramatic has changed but I hope things flow a little better and sound a little better now! Please enjoy and review! They fuel my soul!

Disclaimer: I own nothing :(

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Up the stairs.

Down the stairs.

'Oh I forgot my homework Dean, could you go get it for me?'

More stairs. Never ending _stairs_.

By dinner time, Dean was exhausted. Even sprinting up the staircases alone to get Seamus' homework was tiring.

"Eat Seamus," he instructed, spooning another mouthful of soup into his mouth. Looking up, he nearly groaned at that mischievous look back in his friend's eyes. "No, there is nothing wrong with your arms. Feed yourself."

Sulking, Seamus actually complied, deciding not to push the matter. Dinner passed silently between the two of them. Dean too tired to try and talk to anyone, and the blond seamingly wrapped up in his own thoughts.

By the time dinner was nearly over, many of the students had left the Great Hall and both boys decided they could no longer delay their detention with their potions professor. Yet again, Dean found himself allowing Seamus a ride on his back, taking pity on him, for some unknown reason. Well, unknown to Seamus at least, which was exactly the way Dean intended to keep it.

"You're late," Snape drawled, looking up from a stack of essays. 'Why what a pleasant greeting, nice to see you too Professor,' Dean snipped in his head while helping Seamus regain his footing.

"Yes, well, you see, with my devastating _injury_which I wasn't allowed to have healed, it takes me a while to get places," Seamus drawled right back. Dean almost smacked him in the back of the head as soon as the words left the blond's mouth.

"Perhaps next time, you won't find it as amusing to destroy valuable potions equipment."

Not deterred in the slightest by the dark looks the taller Gryffindor was sending him, Seamus glared at his potions professor. "Well, maybe I didn't see frogs to be valuable. I mean, you can just go outside and catch them, it can't be _that _hard."

Dean's expression froze on his face as the urge to strangle him trippled. Snape smiled at the pair of them and it was decidedly not a nice smile.

"Very well Finnigan, I must admit, I was having difficulty finding a suitable punishment for the two of you. I expect you to replace all those frogs you caused to be unusable before you go to bed."  
When the two teens stood there gaping at him, he smirked. "_Now_"

"How am I supposed to catch frogs when I can't even walk?" Seamus asked him wide eyed.

"I do not believe that is my problem. Besides, was it not Mr. Thomas's punishment to have to help you until you could walk on your own again. Now _go_," he sneered at them. They both slunk from the room. Well, Dean did, Seamus hobbled until they got to the first set of stairs. After that he was once again being carried, arms loosely wrapped around Dean's neck.

"Seamus this is-"

"I know, I know, this is another reason why you hate me," Seamus cut him off, dejected. Dean missed the sadness in the blond's voice as they made their way outside.

By the time they got back to their dormroom, it was past two am. Muddy and more than a little cross, Dean led Seamus to the bathroom, dumping him on the counter and turning on the light. "You are able to take a shower alone, right?" he snapped. He saw the smaller boy wince at his tone, which did nothing to alleviate his mood.

Slamming the bathroom door harder than intended, Dean heard one of his roommates groan and another roll over in his sleep. He was past the point of caring about waking anyone up, as he fumed, waiting for Seamus to finish cleaning up. As soon as he opened the door, Dean was stalking past, eager to rinse the mud and grime from his own skin.

Dean leaned against the shower wall, letting the hot water pound on his back. He knew it was unfair to be mad at Seamus. Other than take advantage of him, which wasn't really new, he hadn't actually _done _anything.

It had been Dean who had waited for him on the stairs, knowing they would both get in trouble with Snape. Dean who had blanked out when McGonagall had asked for an explanation, knowing his friend's tendency to run his mouth. Dean who hadn't stopped Seamus from snipping at the potions master.

Seamus _had _even tried to help catch those ruddy frogs. He had slipped and slid across the muddy earth, arms pin wheeling to keep his balance. Had Dean been in any other mood he would have found the sight comical. The hadn't even complained about the pain that he surely felt every time he fell over.

He rested his head against the cool tiles, feeling some of his tension ease away. Sighing, he straighted up, washing the last of the soap and mud down the drain and rubbed at his eyes tiredly.

His own tired brown eyes stared back at him as he looked in the mirror over the sinks. His threadbare blue pajama shirt clung to skin he hadn't properly dried. Sighing, he trudged into the dorm, closing the door quietly and padding towards his smaller friend's bed. "Seamus I'm really sor-"

Dean's mouth snapped shut. The boy who was always in motion was sprawled across his bed, snoring gently. He had barely noticeable smudges under his eyes as well as dirt under his fingernails. His face was paler than usual, freckles standing out sharply in the moonlight. His sandy blond hair was disheveled, half covering his face.

Dean brushed the hair out of the blond's eyes, chewing on his lower lip. Heaving a great sigh, he turned, and collapsed on his own bed. He almost moaned aloud as he sank into the soft mattress.

Rolling onto his side, he watched the rise and fall of the other boy's chest through the small gap in his curtains. Eventually sleep claimed him too, arm dangling off the side of his bed.


	3. Err, I don't really hate you

Wooo chapter 3 revised. I'm still not happy with them but I am significantly more happy with them than I was previously so I guess that is an improvement! Nothing has really changed except trying to make it a little more realistic!

Pleeeeeeeeeeease review :)

Disclaimer: I does not ownz :(

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Dean's slumber was shattered with a shout. Determined not to let it ruin the few precious minutes he had left of sleep time, he rolled over, stuffing a pillow over his head. His hope was dashed by Ron's exclamation. "Bloody hell, Seamus!"

He groaned and spread the hangings further apart, peering out at the two of them. "It's not _my_fault. It's hard to walk on one leg!" the Irish teen protested. Ron rolled his eyes and stalked away.

"What'd you do?" Dean asked, remaining in his bed.

"Nothing! I was trying to put my shoes on and stepped on his foot. It was an accident! He completely blew it out of proportion." The blond said, sulking. He sank onto the foot of Dean's bed, hanging his head, his hair falling into his face in just the right way to highlight his misery.

"Why are you wearing your trainers anyway? What happened to your school shoes?" Dean asked, resigning himself to sitting up and swinging his legs out of bed.

"Because I wore my other shoes last night," the blond explained. "I didn't think we'd have to dig up frogs in the cold mud! So they're dirty," he pouted. Dean sighed, sliding to the floor.

"Just sit there," he commanded. Grabbing his uniform, he changed quickly. Turning around when he was done, he kneeled in front of his friend, frowning at his flushed face. Dean reached out, placing the back of his hand against the other's forehead. "You okay?"

The glazed look disappeared from Seamus' eyes and he shook his head. "Yeah, just, nothing." Dean resisted the urge to roll his eyes, instead grabbing the blond's foot.

"Seamus you didn't even wrap it!"

"Err...oops?"

This time he couldn't hold back rolling his eyes, pulling the bandage he was given the other day from Madame Pomphrey. "You're supposed to do this every day or it's just going to get worse," Dean grumbled, wrapping the bandage around the bruised and swollen limb.

"I..know..sorry.." Seamus replied slowly. Dean looked up, hazel eyes having returned to their formerly glazed state.

"Shay?" Dean asked, carefully shoving the blond's foot in his trainer and lacing it loosely around the bandage. "Are you okay?" Dean met his eyes again, releasing the damaged leg. Frowning, he put the back of his hand against Seamus' cheek. The flushed skin burned against his own.

Seamus continued to stare at him, hand coming up to grab at Dean's. He pulled the larger hand away from his face, shaking his head slowly. "'m fine." For long moments they remained like that, Dean's hand trapped in the blond's, kneeling between the shorter boy's legs. "Hey Dean-"

"Are you guys ready to go yet?" Ron cried, slamming the door to their dorm open, shattering the moment. Dean jumped back and Seamus blinked rapidly, running a hand through his hair and sighing.

Looking up at Dean he offered him a grin. "Breakfast?"

The corner of the taller boy's mouth turned up as he tried to ignore the hammering of his heart. "Sure, Seamus, come on." Once more he found himself the giver of a piggy back ride once they clambered out of the portriat hole. "You're heavy."

"You're a jerk. We all live," Seamus snipped back.

"How am _I_a jerk?" Dean asked, surprised at the tone.

"You tell me you hate me _all the time_," the blond said, arms wrapped loosely around his neck. Dean's back muscles were protesting by the time they reached the great hall and he slid his friend to the ground. "Seamus, I was kidding!"

"I know," he sighed, glaring at the ground as he hobbled towards their House's table.

_  
They were sitting at the Gryffindor table a full ten minutes before Seamus spoke again. "Uh, Dean?"

"What, Seamus?" Dean asked, his eye giving a little twitch.

"I, kindda, left my books upstairs, again."

Dean looked at him for a long moment, face blank before pushing away from the table.  
"Fine, Seamus. I'll be right back then." He managed to add 'but this is why I hate you,' silently this time.

He was out of breath by the time he returned to the Great Hall, two bags slung over his shoulder. Seamus was happily chatting with Ginny and both looked up when he walked over. "Hey Gin."

She grinned, looking for all the world like she was trying not to laugh. "Hey Dean. Gotta go, see you guys later." He heard her chuckle to herself as she walked out of the hall.

"What was that about?" Dean asked, sinking onto the bench and loading his plate up with the dregs of breakfast.

He turned to look at his sandy haired friend whose face had returned to its earlier flushed state. Embarrassment maybe? Right, that flirt wouldn't know what it was like to be embarrassed.

"Fine, whatever. I really don't care. Got your books," he informed him, standing. He helped Seamus hobble out of the Great Hall, the blond's arm slung around his waist. "Come on," he said, hurrying his steps, gritting his teeth against the blaze of heat wherever Seamus' arm touched.

They were late getting to Divination, his muscles being unable or unwilling to carry the other boy and two bags of heavy books, which wasn't necessarily a bad thing. They didn't get detention, and after some troubles with the rope ladder, they managed to miss half the lesson.

The only snag they hit was trying to leave the class. Dean climbed down the ladder without a problem, staring up at the face of his friend. Seamus slid his legs through the hole, a grin lighting up his face.

Not giving Dean a chance to observe how different that expression made his face look, Seamus shouted "Catch me!" and slid out of the hole. They both landed on the ground with a thud, Dean's head bouncing on the stone floor once.

"Bloody hell Seamus!" he snapped, rubbing the lump forming on the back of his skull. The grin slid off his face as the blond struggled to his feet, hazel eyes downcast. His clothing was rumpled and as he hefted his own bag to his shoulder he stumbled under the weight.

"Yeah, I know, you hate me," he muttered to himself, accepting Dean's help as they trekked back down the stairs.

The rest of the day passed much like the first, with the exception of only having two classes. In between he hauled Seamus up to the tower and forced him to lay on a couch, leg elevated. Then before lunch or class, he'd rewrap the limb and off they'd go again. Though none of the strange moments from the morning repeated themselves.

Despite the number of times they were near their rooms, the blond managed to forget things on two different occassions, sending his taller friend scurrying to get everything done before class.

Finally after dinner, he could see the light at the end of the tunnel. Until he remembered their detention.

"Oh, please, no more frogs," Dean moaned as they waited outside McGonagall's office.

"No worries, Mr. Thomas. I assure you, your time will not be spent with frogs. I think it would be beneficial for you to learn that your actions have consequences, but I don't like having my students rolling around in the mud," their stern professor said, coming up behind them.

"Then, what are we going to do?"

"Well, I asked a favor of the house elves. They were instructed not to do the dishes this evening. I'm sure you both know where the kitchen is," she said, having caught them sneaking out of there on a number of occasssions. "Have a lovely evening boys."

They both groaned, and groaned again at the sight awaiting them. Another long evening to be spent doing manual labor. Dean rubbed his eyes with soapy hands before picking up another dish. At least this time Seamus could help him.

When they were done, many hours later, and with the sneaky help of some of the house elves whenever the pair wasn't looking, Dean's hands looked like giant prunes. He turned around to complain at his friend, only to find the shorter boy sleeping on the rug in front of the sink. Dishes were stacked near the sink in front of him. "Seamus?" No reply. "Come on, get up," Dean said lightly shaking his shoulder. Cloudy eyes blinked up at him.

"Wha?"

"We're done, let's go," the taller teen said. He somehow managed to get the boy upright, and onto his back. After a day of rest, his back didn't seem to mind the burden as much. Seamus' arms didn't hold on, they only dangled limply in front of Dean's chest and his head was resting on a shoulder.

As Dean neared the common room, he felt Seamus' head nuzzle against the side of his neck. Shivering, Dean recited the password, and some how managed to lug his friend through the portrait hole with no more than a muffled "mmm" from the teen.

He was surprised to see Ginny still awake, sitting in front of the fire. The flames lit her face and accented her long hair. She turned to look at them, a small smile on her face. "Long night?" Dean nodded, giving up on getting the boy on his back and settled for cradling him against his chest. "I'm sure it was," she said softly, her attention wandering back to the book on her lap.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Dean asked, tone harsher than he had intended. She frowned at him for a moment, in which she managed to make him feel about 3 inches tall, before her smile returned.

"Nothing, nothing at all. You'd better get him to bed; I'm sure carrying him around all the time is hard work." She mumbled something else under her breath before snapping her book closed and retreating back up the stairs to the girls dorms.

Dean shook his head and decided to ignore the incident, making his way up to their room. He dumped Seamus on his bed, unlacing his shoes and unwrapping his ankle.

The flesh was swollen and a mixture of angry red and ugly blue bruising. Propping it up on pillows and pulling the blankets over his friend he sighed and stretched. He suspected the injury had to hurt a lot more than his friend let on. Dean frowned as he changed for bed before climbing under his own covers. If it wasn't looking better he'd drag him down to the infirmary and demand Pomphrey heal it, Snape be damned.

Halfway through what remained of the night he was awoken by something, or rather someone, crawling into his bed. "Dean?" He recognized Seamus' voice immediately.

"Wha?" he asked, pushing himself up slightly. He could feel the other boy shaking as he crepy closer. "Wha's wrong?" he mumbled.

"Bad dream," Seamus whimpered. He sounded like a small child, begging to be reassured the monsters weren't going to leap up from under the bed and eat him and Dean's heart broke a little.

"Wanna talk?" He saw the shadowy blond head shake back and forth. "Whatchu want?"

His question was met with silence. Dean sank back on the bed and prodded the other boy, receiving a grunt in answer. A pale arm was thrown carelessly across his waist and Seamus curled closer, head resting on his shoulder.

He blearily glared at the sleeping form. The shadows under his eyes were deeper tonight, the moonlight hitting his face so that for a moment it looked sunken and dead. Dean shuddered, pulling the boy closer to him and moving him out of the beam of light. The illusion faded but not the memory.

He sighed, something he seemed to be doing a lot of lately, and burried his face in sandy blond hair. Strawberry scent rose from his hair and Dean smiled, closing his eyes. If he could live in moments like this he would, but come tomorrow Seamus would be bouncing around and flirting with any girl that moved and Dean would be on the sidelines again.

He shoved the negative thoughts away, arms tightening their hold slightly. Despite his intentions of staying awake to enjoy the moment for a little bit longer, he fell asleep, his body curled protectively around his best friend.


	4. I kind of really like you

Last part of my rewritten update. I hope it is entertaining and a bit better than what was written previously. Less awkward at least. Reviews are always welcome and always wanted! Thank you for your time and hope you enjoy!

Disclaimer: not mine stilllllll

* * *

Dean woke late the next day, trying to shift so the sun wasn't in his eyes. As his body moved he heard a groan and froze. Seamus was still curled on the bed, blissfully unaware of the tormenting sun. Of course, _he _had been the one to leave the bed curtains open. The dark skinned boy just shook his head, laying back down and letting out a sigh of contentment, shifting so the ray of light missed his eyes.

The second time he woke that day he was considerably more rested. The sun had moved through the sky, more of its annoying light sliding through the gap. There were voices in the room indicating his roommates were up. Sliding out of the other boy's grip, he sat on the edge of his bed and stretched.

"Nice to see you're awake, mate," Ron said from the corner of the room. He, Neville, and Harry were sitting around Neville's bed. At the redhead's comment they all grinned.

Dean glared at them. "Shut up."

"We _were _wondering why you didn't get up obscenely early like usual. But I guess your detention time just plum wore you out," the red head said, continuing to grin.

His eyes widened. "I wasn't-we didn't-" Of course, his slightly slow on the uptake friend chose that moment to wake up.

"Mornin'," he said sleepily, placing his feet on the floor before quickly retracting them. "'s cold."

Dean just groaned, getting to his feet. "I'm taking a shower." Rounding on his snickering roommates he glared. "Alone! I am taking a shower,_alone!" _he hollered, stomping to the bathroom.

"Harry, did you give him lessons on losing his temper?" he heard Neville tease the raven haired teen before the bathroom door slammed shut behind him.

His irritation faded with the hot water and by the time he was done and pruny Dean was feeling slightly less inclined to murder someone. Until Ron stuck his head into the bathroom. The darker Gryffindor had a toothbrush stuck in his mouth which made it difficult to frown at the red head.

"Wa's wron'?" he said. Apparently they had spent enough time together that Ron got the idea.

"Err, nothing. Uhm, well I lost and err..had to...ask you you know, what _did_happen?" His ears were bright red.

"Nothing, so get your mind out of the gutter. Seamus respects no one's personal space." He shrugged, feigning nonchalance.

"Oh, that's a relief then," Ron said before slipping back out of the room. Before he could ask why it was a 'relief' he was gone. Dean, however, figured it out as soon as he walked out of the loo.

Seamus was sitting on _Dean's _bed talking to _Dean's _ex-girlfriend. She started giggling and Seamus flashed a sheepish smile. Whatever irritation he had managed to wash away in the shower returned full-force and he ground his teeth together.

The sandy haired boy looked up when Dean slammed the lid of his trunk closed. He was still smiling, opening his mouth to speak when Dean cut him off with a wave of his hand. "I don't want to hear it Seamus." He proceeded to stalk out of the room.

"What's wrong?" Seamus called, hobbling after him.

That did it. Any semelance of patience that had remained vanished and Dean whirled on the smaller boy.

"You really want to know what's wrong _Shay_?" he sneered. The other Gryffindor nodded meekly. "Arg! _This_ is what's wrong!" he snapped, gesturing wildly between the two of them. "_This_is why I hate you," he said, gesturing again but including Ginny in it. "This is what makes me hate you, you stupid flirt! You! One minute you do one thing and the next the other, just, whatever Seamus!" he exlaimed.

Storming out of the room, Dean slammed the door, wishing it would come off its hinges. By the time he made it down to the Great Hall breakfast was almost over. He shoveled food on his plate before realizing he had no appetite.

He made his way to Transfiguration before being turned right around again by his irrate professor who wanted to know where Seamus was and why he wasn't helping him. Dean glared at everyone and anyone he passed as he stalked back towards the tower, happening upon the blond who was hobbling slowly down one of the staircases closest to Gryffindor tower.

Wordlessly, Dean helped him, a dark expression on his face. Seamus' made a few attempts at conversation throughout the day, withering under the glare Dean sent his way each and every time.

And so the rest of the week passed, Dean waking, helping Seamus, wrapping, unwrapping, rewrapping his ankle. Getting things he forgot. And above all, not speaking to him. By the time Saturday rolled around he was one giant ball of tension and anger.

Saturday dawned cold and bright and Dean made his way down to the Great Hall alone, leaving Seamus in bed. He didn't think his detention extended to cover weekends. Words washed over him from the other students and the staff as he glared at his plate of food.

"Dean, you alright?" Neville asked from across from him. The dark skinned boy shrugged and sighed.

"I'll see you in Hogsmade, yeah?" he asked, rubbing his eyes. He shoved his plate away before the other boy could answer, wanting to get back to the common room and his money. It was the last Hogsmade weekend before Christmas holidays and he had a few last minute things to get.

His temper had begun to cool as he walked towards his room and he was left feeling guilty. It wasn't Seamus' fault that Dean had once again let his hopes be brought up. It wasn't Seamus' fault that Dean had hoped on some level that he wouldn't just flirt with the next pretty face he saw. It wasn't Seamus' fault that Dean was expecting him to be someone he just _wasn't_.

Thankfully the Irish boy was no where to be found and soon Dean was on his way back downstairs, waiting with the rest of the people going to the village.

"Thomas, what are you doing?" his head of house asked.

Dean frowned up at her. "I'm going to Hogsmade."

"No, you most certainly are not. Your punishment is to help Mr. Finnagin around until he is back on his feet, and I don't see you doing that. Surely he is in no condition to go to Hogsmade, so I don't want to see you there either," she informed him. He gaped at her but she paid him no mind, leading the rest of the students outside.

Malfoy leered at him while his cronies laughed and Ron, Harry, and Neville shot him sympathetic looks. The dark skinned boy fumed for long minutes before stalking outside. He would have to face Seamus' sooner or later but he would much prefer later.

Deciding to take a walk instead, he made his way across the grass which was now lightly dusted in snow.

His hands had started to go numb before any of his anger subsided. Seamus, Seamus, Seamus, it always boiled down to that git! His detentions, his sore back, his sleepless nights, his being tormented by their roommates, his not being able to go to the village.

Dean continued to grind his teeth, stalking across the snowy grounds. Seamus had never claimed to like him as any more than a friend. But that boy was such a _flirt_. And Dean would let his hopes rise every time the boy made something any sane person would consider an advance. And every _single_time his hopes got riddled with holes as Seamus would flirt with one girl after another right after.

Dean managed to climb to the highest Quidditch stand before he broke down. His cries were lost in the wind and his tears froze in tracks on his face. It was a long time that he sat there, cried out, staring over the lake, into the edges of the forbidden forest. By the time the sun was setting the fact that he had stormed off without anything more than a sweater had started to sink in. With a heavy heart and shaking hands he made his way back up to the castle and from there to the tower.

Despite the late hour, there were only a hand-full of people in the common room. Two of them being the two who he had screamed at earlier that morning. Ginny saw him and stood up quickly from her perch on the couch.

Seamus wasn't immediately visible, scrunched up in the arm chair as he was. His face was buried in his hands, knees drawn up to his chest. When he lifted his face, anguish was evident. Dean just shook his head, trudging up to their dorm room. He had started to shiver sometime on the way upstairs, and it was only getting worse.

He pulled pajamas on with shaking hands and burrowed under his comforter. Maybe if he slept long enough when he woke up it would be the end of the year and he could go home and not deal with anything.

Yeah, that sounded good.

Dean closed his eyes and drifted in and out of sleep. Thumping and muttered curses brought him out of his doze. His bed dipped as someone sat on the edge of it. "I'm real sorry," Seamus told him.

"Forget about it, Shay," Dean muttered from beneath his blankets. "Not your fault, just a bad day, is all. Forget it."

The other teen was quiet for long minutes. "How was Hogsmade?" he asked softly. Dean's eye twitched under the blanket. He forced his voice to remain calm.

"I, err, couldn't go. Apparently you weren't in a right state to be left alone." He finally poked his head above the covers, still shivering slightly. "It's whatever. Sorry for yelling at you earlier. Sometimes your flirting just gets a bit much to handle, especially when it's with my ex-girlfriend, on my bed," he said tiredly.

Seamus frowned, chewing on his lower lip. "I'm sorry. I didn't think-"

"Seamus, you never think," Dean said, giving the boy a half smile to soften his words. "You never think how your actions affect the people around you." His eyes drifted closed even as he sat up and leaned against the his headboard, pillow squashed against his chest. "Seamus, I just, I can't do this anymore."

"What do you mean?" the blond asked, and Dean look at him sharply. Real panic was evident in the other's voice now. "You….don't want to be friends with me anymore?" The slighter boy's chest was rising and falling rapidly.

"It's not like that, Shay, it's just, I don't know." His groaned, hiding his face in his pillow. Seamus was leaning forward, his hands on Dean's knees, over the blanket. He stayed like that until Dean removed his face, their eyes locking.

"What is it like then, Dean?" he whispered. "It's not fair of you to stop being my friend without an explanation." Dean's eyes were drawn to his lip which he chewed on while waiting for Dean to answer.

"I don't have to explain everything to you, Shay," he answered, words coming slowly. "And most things you'd figure out yourself if you just paid attention," he muttered as an afterthought, face reddening, glad that it wasn't as noticable as it would have been on the blond.

Seamus' eyes narrowed as his teeth dragged across his lower lip, the pink flesh flushed. Dean's eyes tracked the movement of his tongue as it darted out to moisten his lips. He ground his teeth together, and closed his eyes, praying for patience, or inner fortitude, or something. _Something_so he didn't reach across and grab the smaller teen, and force their lips together.

"You know the same goes for you too," Seamus said, breaking the silence. This was so unexpected that Dean opened his eyes, staring at him as if he'd grown a second head. "Sometimes you think you're so put upon, but if you just opened your eyes and got your head out of your ass, you'd realize that I don't _like_any of the people I flirt with," he explained. And when had they gotten so close. Dean could feel the other's breath on his face.

His heart skipped several beats and then picked up a fast pounding rhythm. "Err, Shay?" Dean choked out. "W-what're you doing?"

The sandy haired boy sighed, his head falling forward to rest against Dean's. Dean could see the little strip of brown circling Seamus' pupils, flecks of brown coloring the hazel of his irises. "I don't know," the other murmured, his lips lightly coming in contact with Dean's. The taller boy froze as his breathing stopped and his heart tried to force its way out of his chest.

Seamus tensed, fingers digging into Dean's knees as he moved to pull back. Dean's mind seemed permantenly out to lunch. Before the blond could escape Dean's hand darted forward, grabbing the back of Seamus' neck and pulling him forward, their mouths pressing together.

It was an awkward first kiss, their noses smashed together, Seamus' tooth nicking Dean's lip. And then Seamus moved, tilting his head, pushing himself closer and Dean moaned in his mouth. That sound seemed to encourage the slighter teen, who shoved him down flat on the bed with surprising strength.

Seamus bit down hard on his lip, pulling a gasp from Dean, and exploring the newly opened area with his tongue. Dean moaned again, squirming beneath the blond. "God," Seamus gasped. "Dean don't do that," he groaned before recapturing the other's mouth.

"Why...not?" Dean gasped back at him, shifting on the bed again.

Seamus groaned, resting his head on his roommate's shoulder, panting. "Because everyone will be back from dinner soon and I'd rather them not walk in on me ravishing you senseless," he mumbled, lips tickling Dean's arm.

Dean's brain chose that moment to catch up, pointing out that at least he had stopped shivering. He grinned up at his friend. "What?" Seamus asked him, uncertainty flickering behind his eyes.

Dean's grin broadened. "You know, sometimes it feels like there's so many reasons why I hate you," he said. Seamus frowned at him, moving to get up. Dean grabbed his arms. "But I'm pretty sure there's a few more reasons why I love you," he finished and Seamus smiled back before resuming earlier activities, pressing Dean into the mattress.

"Oy, have you two worked things out ye-gah!" Ginny cried from the entrance to their room. "Boys are such perverts!" she exclaimed as she beat a hasty retreat, the two teens not pausing to take noticed of her.


End file.
